


Saviors?

by miss_murder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Sexual Content, Purge, Sick Character, Werewolves, dean always wants to shoot first and ask questions later, possible turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2890673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_murder/pseuds/miss_murder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire is being chased by... something. And blacks out. When she wakes, something might be wrong, and the Winchesters have to make sure their hunches are wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saviors?

I screamed and ran faster. Whatever it was, that...  _thing_ was right behind me, all bloody face and snarling fangs. Every muscle in my body exuded a burning ache, wanting to stop and rest. How long had I been running? But I was anywhere but safe, and I knew I couldn't stop until that had changed. Where was I? That thing had knocked me out on the street and dragged me to this god-forsaken death trap of a warehouse, and it seemed to be playing cat-and-mouse as I tried to escape. I already had scratches all over and just as many bruises, plus a wide, jagged gash down my arm that left a trail of blood behind me. _Fabulous_. I knew I couldn't run much farther before I collapsed. I was already dizzy from blood loss.

The thing charged again, running down the hall after me. I dashed around a corner, hiding in one of a row of old, rusty lockers meant for workers long gone. I slammed the door shut, my arm continuing to shoot pain through my body. My lungs burned for air, but the musty, dust-filled locker offered little relief.  _So this is it,_ I thought, listening to that monster roaring outside my little metal shelter.  _This is how I die. No one knows where I am, not even me, and I don't even know what's trying to kill me._ My vision blurred and went hazy.

Suddenly, gunshots. Roaring. Metallic clanging, a bright light shining in my eyes. 

Then nothing.

 

o0o0o

 

A car engine. An older car, by the sounds of it.

And...  _AC/DC?_

My sight didn't return. But slowly, sounds became clearer, like someone turning up a radio slowly, tick by tick: the car, the music, and voices. Male voices.

"Turn it off, you're gonna wake her up. And it's annoying."

"You're annoying."

"Wow, mature."

"Whatever, tell me again why she's droolin' all over my backseat?"

The first voice sighed. He sounded younger than the second. "She's been attacked, Dean, don't be stupid. You saw the shape she's in. Look, we'll take her to the hospital then disappear like we always do. Another case taken care of, no muss, no fuss."

"There'll be fuss if she stains my seats," the one called Dean growled.

By now, it was obvious they were talking about me. I tried to move, but my limbs felt like slabs of cement. My tongue felt fat and heavy in my mouth, like it had received a shot of Novocain. My eyelids twitched, but it took several minutes for them to open. My vision was blurry at first, but it slowly adjusted to the bright light. I blinked a few times. I was in the backseat of a car, like Dean had complained, but I couldn't quite move my head yet to look around. My hands and feet weren't bound. I wasn't gagged.

Who were these men, then?

It took nearly twenty minutes for me to roll from my side to my back. My head pounded with the bass and guitars from the music. The demolition crew working inside my skull didn't help, either. Pain blossomed with the starbursts of light behind my eyelids. I lifted my arm over my eyes and groaned softly, wanting nothing more than a hot rice bag and heavy painkillers.

The man in the passenger seat jumped slightly and turned, obviously not expecting any noise from me. I slid my gaze up to him, taking in smooth, long brown hair and tired-looking eyes that seemed impossibly bright despite the bags underneath them. At least a day's worth of stubble grew on his jaw.

I raised an eyebrow at him and croaked, "Can I help you?" My throat couldn't have been drier if I'd swallowed sawdust.

"Oh crap, is she awake?" The driver, whose voice I recognized as Dean, swerved a little in shock before pulling over and parking. I cried out at the sudden jarring, the pain increasing tenfold, and held my head. Tears spilled from my eyes. I'd never felt this kind of excruciating agony.

"Hey, hey, you're okay..." The one with long hair turned to kneel backwards on the bench seat, reaching down to gently pressing his hand to my forehead. His palm and fingers were solid and warm, but only when he touched me did I realize I was sweating, yet shivering.

I sniffed. "I just... want it to go away..." I whimpered, hating how pitiful I sounded.

The man frowned and turned to his companion. "She's burning up..." Then, as if they were on the same mental wavelength, they climbed out of the car to talk alone. Their voices were muffled, but I could mostly make out what they said.

"We can't take her back like this."

"Why not? A hospital can take care of her and give her all the good drugs until she's all better."

"This isn't just some illness, Dean! You saw what the werewolf did to her..."

Silence.

"You don't think-"

"It's a possibility. I mean, we've seen it happen before."

Dean groaned, then a dull thud made me wonder if he'd kicked the car's tire. "Damn it, Sam, why didn't you just let me kill her when we found her?!" That was frightening, but it was quiet for another few moments. "Well, what are we going to do with her, hm? The beginning of the next lunar cycle's two weeks away!"

"We could take her back to the bunker-"

"I'm not taking a potential werewolf into the bunker!"

"You got a better idea?"

"As a matter of fact, I do! We could gank her right now and be done!"

Hardly any of their words made any sense to me. A werewolf? What did I have to do with the lunar cycle? My head screamed with pain, and it was respite when I slipped back into unconsciousness.

 

o0o0o

 

When I woke again, I was in an unfamiliar bed in a garishly decorated room. I cringed at both the décor and at the pain that had once more started to course through my body. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold back the pathetic cries threatening to burst from my mouth. I tried to sit up. That was painfully unsuccessful as a wave of nausea crashed over me before I got four inches off the mattress. Only then did I utter a cry. Why couldn't the pain just go away?

Two large, strong hands gently pushed me back down. The mattress dipped as someone sat next to me. I opened my eyes, even though my vision was bleary from sleep and unshed tears. I blinked several times, finally recognizing the figure. He smiled, the large brunette man from the car. "You're going to be okay," he said softly, taking something from the nightstand and bringing it to my face. It was a washcloth, wet and blessedly cold. I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Who are you?" I mumbled, throat dry. "What am I doing here?"

"Just relax, you're safe now," the man murmured, dabbing my face and neck with the cloth. "My name is Sam. That other guy you saw earlier, that's my brother, Dean. You were attacked... we just want to make sure you're okay."

"And this is preferable to a hospital or something?" I may have felt like dying, but I could still whip up some sarcasm.

Sam smiled. "Not exactly. But we think... something might have happened to you. We just want to make sure it hasn't."

"Happened?" That was almost as weird as... well, this whole situation.

I was about to protest again when my stomach lurched. With newfound energy, I ran to the tiny bathroom and was sick. The meager contents of my stomach empited into the toilet bowl, along with a frightening amount of blood and white bile. I started to cry, once again wondering why this was happening to me.

Apparently, Sam had followed me. He knelt down and gave me a cup of water, then another of mouthwash. He flushed the toilet and wiped my face. I felt like a little kid instead of the twenty-four-year-old that I was.

"P-please..." I sobbed as Sam helped me back to the bed, all of my strength gone. "J-just... t-tell me what's hap-penning..."

He sighed. "Okay, well... do you believe in werewolves?"

 

o0o0o

 

While Sam was explaining, his brother came into the room carrying beer, a brown paper bag that smelled like tacos, and a mason jar filled with a red liquid. He helped Sam explain what had happened. There was werewolf venom in me now, and my body was trying to fight it. Hence the zero strength, scalding fever, and gross detox. Joy, it would keep happening. "But the venom will take over if we don't act fast." Dean handed the jar to me. "This is a potion. Old family recipe, and it will help you flush out the venom. You need to drink all of it, but fair warning... it tastes like dirty rocket fuel and piss." I made a face and regarded the liquid sloshing inside the jar.

"You're sure it will keep me from turning into a werewolf?" Both of them nodded. I groaned, unscrewed the lid, and looked at it again. It smelled like rusty iron and dog food. I swallowed hard and screwed my eyes shut.  _Here goes nothing..._ I braced myself and swallowed the whole potion in one go.

I was promptly sick just moments later.

After I'd washed out my mouth, I managed to stomach half a taco before once again throwing up. Then I was helped back and managed the other half of taco and a bottle of water.

A whole week and a half passed in this manner- sleep, puke, sleep, eat a little, puke, eat a little more, sleep. My body didn't want to move much, yet I grew restless. I wanted to go out in the sun, run, shop, play tennis, do everything I used to do. The small motel room was making me claustrophobic as well as stir crazy, even though I was alone while sleeping, sometimes while I was awake. Sam and Dean had their own room next door.

"Sorry, Claire," Sam said one day. "But you have to stay here for your own good, until the new moon passes."

I pouted. It was mid-day, and my strength had slowly been returning. I could get up and walk around easily, and food stayed down better. Dean had even given me a beer without disgusting results. "But I  _feel_ fine!" I protested, crossing my arms. "And it's noon, can't I just go outside to stretch my legs?" 

Sam didn't respond. He looked at me as if debating internally, then closed his eyes and turned, going out of the room. I growled and grabbed a pillow off my bed, chucking it at the closed door. He was like a prions warden! I flopped on my stomach.

 

o0o0o

 

The first night of the new lunar cycle arrived. No surprise to me, I felt the same as I did on any other day. My body had healed; I was fighting fit. But Sam and Dean might as well have put me under maximum security lockdown. They were so intent on keeping an eye on me, I could hardly roll over without them wondering why.

About ten o'clock, I was still upset. I sat criss-cross on the bed, pouting like a child denied a cookie before dinner. I didn't even shift my glare when I heard the door open and close. "Angry at the TV for not turning on?" Sam joked. I didn't move. "Okay, okay... look, I'm sorry. But we can't be too careful!" I glared harder. Sam sighed. I could tell that he was rubbing his face and running a hand through his hair, which I had accurately dubbed his Moose Mane. He always did that.

"Okay, fine. Here. Peace offering." I looked up just in time to catch a plastic shopping bag he'd tossed my way. The least I could do now was look inside. A new book, Ferrero Rocher chocolates, Almond Rocas*, and a Wild Cherry Pepsi.

My brow furrowed in confusion. I looked up at Sam's triumphant smirk. "How'd you know these are my favorites?"

Sam's smirk turned into a full grin. He gestured at the laptop under his arm. "I'm very good at research." He sat down on the bed opposite mine, looking like he was going to be there a while.

I twisted the soda open and took a long drink, happy with the familiar taste. "Why are you here, anyway?" I asked as he kicked off his shoes. "Don't you want to be as far from me as possible if I  _wolf out?_ " My tone oozed sarcasm and venom.

Sam frowned. "No...  _if_ it happens, I wouldn't want to leave you alone." He sighed and looked at the wall separating my room from his and Dean's, then shook his head. "Besides, Cas is back."

"Cas? Who's Cas?"

"Castiel, Dean's boyfriend." Huh. I hadn't pictures Dean that way. "They've been apart for a while, so I figured it would be a good idea to give them some space." As if on cue, there was a loud  _thunk_ on the other side of the wall and an embarrassing moan. Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes. I couldn't help but laugh, realizing what he meant.

"I can tell they missed each other very much," I said between giggles. Sam just rolled his eyes and lifted the lid of his laptop, beckoning me over with the offer of a movie.

 

o0o0o

 

As we sat next to each other, my gaze began to intermittently shift from the screen to Sam. He was actually very handsome. I'd even say handsomer than his brother. Long, soft hair framing a square, hard jaw. Hard, dark eyes that softened when he smiled. Full lips, and just the right amount of stubble to cast a light shadow. He was tall, even taller than my 5'11, and had a broad, muscular frame built for carrying damsels out of burning buildings, which I was now clinging to for warmth as the room cooled down and the clock slowly counted up to midnight.

We'd broken open the Almond Rocas, eating them as we watched the movie. It was a romantic drams that I'd only seen once before. About halfway through, I wasn't surprised when the two main characters started passionately kissing. The music was making it obvious that things were leading to sex, but I still flushed when clothes started flying. I snuck a glance at Sam, who was also blushing and shifting uncomfortably.

I smirked and nudged his side. "Oh, come on, it's nothing you haven't seen before, right?" He only smirked without replying, only looking away. I looked at him in disbelief. "Really? You're honestly turned on by this?" His blush deepened, something I found extremely attractive.

"Not usually!" he protested. "It's just... you."

"Oh?" I prodded, then flushed when I understood. I rubbed the back of my neck. "Oh..."

Sam set the computer aside and swung his legs off the side of the bed. "Sorry... I mean, it's probably pretty weird for you. If you want, I can just g-"

"No," I said softly. "I mean... it's not weird. I-I was... I was... thinking about it, too." My eyes bore holes into my knees, and my face was surely hot enough to cook an egg. Sam smiled.

He looked back at me, seeming to catch my drift. He turned to me and cupped my cheek, gazing down at me with those dark, dark eyes. My gaze lifted to his, and I pressed my lips against his.

 

o0o0o

 

The room wasn't so cold anymore, lit only by weak moonlight that bled through the curtains. Sam and I laid together, limbs entwined under the sheets, slowly feeding each other chocolates between languid kisses. I traced my finger across his chest and arms, drawing the lines where muscles cast soft shadows across his skin. He rubbed the curve of my hip bone and across my lower back.

When I finally drifted to sleep, I had a sweet smile on my kiss-swollen lips. I didn't know yet of the insatiable ache in my heart, and ache that would be left when I woke up in an empty bed, knowing Sam Winchester had driven out of my life forever.

**Author's Note:**

> All brand names belong to the respective companies.
> 
> *If you guys don't know what Ferrero Rochers or Almond Rocas are, the first are ball-shaped chocolates with a whole roasted hazelnut inside a wafer shell filled with hazelnut cream, then covered in milk chocolate and diced hazelnuts. Delicious. The second are pieces of hard, crunchy almond-butter toffee covered in chocolate and ground almonds.


End file.
